


Back At Your Door

by sendricamp



Category: Women's Murder Club (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-05
Updated: 2013-02-05
Packaged: 2017-11-28 06:48:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/671503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sendricamp/pseuds/sendricamp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I had moved on, she should, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Back At Your Door

My fingers are tracing light circles on her stomach, the beads of sweat still there. The room is cold but our bodies are still warm. Her arm is draped around me, holding me close as our breathing returns to its normal pace. After a few more moments of silence, I pull away, searching the room with my eyes for every piece of my clothing. As I dress, there is no sound from the bed. Standing in the doorway, I turn and look at her. Those ice-blue eyes are watching me. She knows I don’t really want her, but she was there. She knows my heart beats for someone else, and she tries so hard to not let it bother her.

Things would be easier if we hadn’t become attached. It was supposed to be a one time deal. Somewhere along the line, it all changed. As I leave the apartment and opt for the stairs instead of the elevator, my phone begins to ring. Putting it to my ear, I know whose voice I will hear. “Yeah?”

“Where are you?”

“I don’t have to answer to you anymore. Actually, I don’t think I ever did,” I reply. My voice is bitter and filled with anger, but if she notices, she doesn’t let on.

“Can you meet me at the diner? I need to talk to you.” Her voice is almost pleading. She knows I won’t say no. “I’ll see you when you get there,” she whispers before the line goes dead. She knows I’ll be there. Since the first day I met her, I had only been able to tell her no once. Part of me still regrets it, and it always will.

When I make it to the diner, she is sitting in a back booth, alone, staring into an empty shot glass. She looks up as I slide into the opposite side of the booth and I see that her eyes are bloodshot from crying. “I was stupid,” she says, not breaking eye contact.

“What?”

“When I said that I didn’t care if you walked out of my life. When I said that I never wanted people to know about us. I was stupid.” She orders another shot and as soon as it arrives at the table she knocks it back. “I want you to come home with me. I want to get back what we had.”

“We can’t.”

“Why?” Her voice is strained, still tearful.

“Because of Jill,” I whisper, looking at the table. I can feel her eyes burning into me, almost like lasers, and the pain that is in them is something I don’t want to look up and face. “I know she won’t admit it out loud, kind of like you, but she cares.”

“Then how come you stay? I mean, you left me when I couldn’t be verbal,” she snaps, forcing me to raise my chin and glare.

“I didn’t stay with you because it was crippling, Lindsay. You never said what I wanted, no, what I needed to hear. I needed to know that I was wanted, and appreciated, in your life and you never let me know. I mean, I get how deep your devotion to the Kiss-Me-Not case was, and I know I waltzed in at the worst time for it, but that gave you no right to treat me like you did.” My voice is now filled with tears, I can feel them sliding down my face, falling onto the table.

She hasn’t broken eye contact and I know she is letting every word sink in slowly. “I know it didn’t, but I did. I did anyways because I was scared, alright? Being with you, it never felt like it did with Tom. It was different, somehow more special.”

“Then I guess you can hold on to that feeling, but we can’t go back,” I say, standing up. I am almost halfway to the door when her words stop me.

“Then can we start over?”

I walk back towards her, leaning on the edge of the table as I look at her carefully. “And where do you suppose the start is, Linz? Do you think after all this we can just forget and rebuild? Because, believe me, it doesn’t work that way.”

Making another attempt to leave, this time I am halted shortly before my car. Her grip on my arm is almost painful, tears in her eyes. “Cindy…I’m sorry…” She almost seems to be choking on her words.

“That doesn’t work this time. Not anymore. I sat back for six months hearing you say it. It lost its meaning.”

“Cindy, let me fix this. I need to fix this.”

Freeing my arm from her grasp, I look at her sadly. “What don’t you get that you can’t? I’ve moved on. You should too.” I let myself into my car and drive away, ignoring the searing pain in my chest that causes me to look back. She is still standing in the parking lot, looking at the ground.

I find myself back at Jill’s door, letting myself in and finding her arms with no trouble. She doesn’t ask questions as the tears fall, and I know she never will. As my tears finally subside, I look at her, and I realize that I wasn’t lying when I told Lindsay I had moved on.

We kiss, and as we pull apart I keep my forehead pressed to hers. It’s time to tell the truth. “I love you.”


End file.
